Written in the Stars
by JayLah
Summary: After finding out she is about to be forced into an arranged marriage, Miranda Richardson meets a mysterious stranger who may change her life forever. Alternate Universe: Nir/Miranda
1. Chapter 1

**AN:** This is an alternate universe version of Nir and Miranda's story where she wasn't raised by Marak and never engaged to Catspaw. This is my attempt to show whether Nir and Miranda being together was just about his magic forcing them together or if they could really have a relationship that starts with love.

**Chapter 1**

Something terrible was going to happen that night. Nir felt it all the way down to his bones.

It was his magic. It told him to do something again. He would do it of course. He had to. For some reason he didn't understand yet, doing this was best for the elves.

The elf lord awoke in the evening twilight with the bizarre knowledge that he must accompany Galnar to the fair in the Hollow Lake village. That was what he must do, but he had no idea why. Nir prepared to obey and a nauseating sensation stirring up his stomach. Ever since his magic forced him to give Arianna to the goblins, the elf lord was even more wary of what the mysterious magic might do next.

The elves ate the evening meal and Nir noticed that he had just now became used to taking only one share instead of two. When the meal was over, Willow approached his lord. First, he stuck to nonsensitive topics such as hunting and when they would move camp. Then he eased into a more sensitive topic.

"My youngest daughter will be turning twelve at the next full moon," Willow said. "She'll be ready for an engagement soon."

Both men shifted awkwardly. Willow wasn't the first father to hint at a possible engagement between Nir and his daughter. Ever since he lost Arianna to the goblins, he had become the recipient of attempts at matchmaking. What he couldn't understand was why anyone would want their daughter bound to him after what happened to his wife and then his fiance.

"Congratulations, Willow," Nir said. "I hope your daughter finds a good fiance. Excuse me, Galnar and the others are waiting."

* * *

><p>In the music room on the western side of the Hallow Hill mansion, a statuesque young woman with auburn hair sang the Russian song, "Shine, Shine, My Star." Her fingers danced across the black and ivory piano keys, accompanying her voice with the melody.<p>

A chill breezed through the room. The girl knew the sudden change in temperature had nothing to do with the coming autumn or the setting sun.

No, her mother just entered the room.

Til listened for a moment, leaning her slender form against the door frame. Finding nothing to critique of in her daughter's music ability, she proceeded further into the room and made a grand announcement.

"Miranda, you are about to receive a marriage proposal from the most eligible man in miles," Til said, "and you will accept him."

The music came to a complete halt with a sour clank of the wrong key.

Miranda turned her brown eyes to her mother with an appraising look, not entirely surprised. Her parents had been hinting at making a match for her since just before her older sister, Katherine, died.

"Might I ask the name of the man?" she asked. "Or should I just be on guard at all times, lest some random gentlemen drops to one knee without warning?"

Til's already coal black eyes darkened. Looking stunning in a crimson frock, her mother sauntered further into the room and situated herself on the settee, spreading her skirts out to create an attractive picture.

"Charlie Hempstead." Till purred the name, accentuating each syllable.

Gloomily, Miranda flexed her fingers out and began the third movement of Chopin's _Piano Sonata No. 2_.

Charlie Hempstead was a pale, stuttering young man who lived in an estate nearby. Growing up, he had a troubling fixation with insects and never had any interest in playing with befriending anything he couldn't study with a microscope. He returned from university recently, even gawkier and more awkward than he had been in childhood.

"His mother and I had a chat today," Til continued. "We agreed that a match between her Charlie and my Miranda would be good for both of our families. And, he fancies you, you know."

Miranda honestly doubted that man possessed the capabilities of taking a fancy to any woman.

"At the fair tonight, you will pay him every attention," he mother said and paused. "Are you listening to me?"

"Yes," Miranda replied crisply. "I'm to marry a man who can barely string two words together because it will be good for both of our families. Whether the marriage will be good for either Mr. Hempstead or myself, well that probably doesn't matter much."

Til stared, unimpressed. "Really, darling. What a stupid thing to say."

* * *

><p>The stiff, white human shirt had to be secured to Nir's chest by a long row of circles that ran the length of the garment. The black britches cinched at his waist and the clunky brown boots that encased his feet were equally as uncomfortable.<p>

Used to the soft and stretchy elf clothes made by Igira, Nir never dreamed he would ever don human clothes, let alone attend a human fair.

Nir kept his eyes on the dark blue green sky with the multicolored stars as he, Galnar, Hunter, and a number of other elves slipped through the rows of trees, toward the village. The others were already in high spirits, laughing about all the pranks and jokes they would play on the humans.

They were all oblivious to the pair of goblin guards lurking at a respectable distance as the group of elves made their way through the thinning trees along the border of the human mansions. Nir was anything but oblivious. He felt the sicking sensation of insects crawling under his skin at the enemy's nearness. Fortunately, the goblin guards maintained their distance on their own side of the border and were soon far behind them.

The trees continued to thin and a cacophony of crashing voices mixed with human attempts at music filled the air.

"Won't take much effort to dazzle this crowd," Hunter joked. "I could do a better job asleep and snoring through my pipes."

Everyone laughed as the blond elf pulled out his wooden pipes and proved his point. If elves did indeed snore, they would indeed have made a beautiful melody.

The elves passed a final row of pines and stopped within their shade. Though it was evening and the night was already settling in around them, light from the Hollow Lake village shined exceptionally bright as the fair got underway.

Concentrating on each individual torch, candle, and lantern in the area, Nir brought the flames down until they flickered dimly enough for both humans and his companions to see.

Something strange happened when the group stepped into the village. It wasn't the sudden halt in the music and the whispering hush that vibrated through the crowd at their approach. It wasn't the startled and bewitched expression each human suddenly possessed. It was Nir's magic.

The power was doing something without his sanction. It was searching, he realized. For what, he couldn't guess. He felt the magic assessing each human in their turn. Not knowing what it had planned, the elf lord stopped.

Oblivious, his companions continued on, melding into the crowd. Soon, a rendition of Morning Star filled the air, replacing the human music. A noticeable change overtook the humans. Their dancing became more vigorous, though not more graceful.

Ignoring the change in atmosphere, Nir turned to the stars, looking for answers from those burning globes in the sky. As usual, answers did not come swiftly. But he felt the process his magic was going through much more strongly. That's when he realized the power was analyzing everyone in the crowd. It narrowed its scope to just women. Then unmarried women. Then, finally, unmarried women of child bearing age.

Nir suddenly gasped. He knew what he had to do.

Black eyes miserable, he surveyed the dancing crowd. Instead of moving as one graceful body in motion like the elves did, humans paired off into male and female partners. The women's long skirts twirled with each spin. Many stared beyond their partners at Nir, craning their necks with an effort in some cases. It was as if they knew.

A knot of agony tightened in Nir's stomach. As usual, his magic made a very clear demand without any explanation.

The elf lord was to choose one of the human women. Steal her. Enchant her with spells to force her into a world not her own. Then make a son with her.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Nir strolled through the crowd. Soberly, he surveyed the girls and women his magic singled out. Some were pretty as far as humans went. Others were not. But each met his gaze with a blush and a look of wonder. He felt each one sting with disappointment every time he turned away and moved along.

"Are you looking for someone?" A young woman stepped into his path.

Her eyes and hair were black, a sign of aristocracy in Nir's world. That hair hung freely about her shoulders and down her back. She was one of only a few who did. Many other women kept their hair pinned close to their heads. The difference endeared him to the dark haired woman. She also resembled an elf enough to be beautiful, which was also in her favor.

"Am I looking for someone?" Nir repeated. "Yes, I am."

"Maybe I can help," she said. "I work at my family's tavern and inn. I know everybody in these parts. Except you. Is it anyone in-particular you're looking for?"

"I don't know," he admitted, struggling to make sense of some of the words she used. _Tavern?_ "Maybe I'm looking for you."

Surprise lit the young woman's black eyes and she cast a mischievous grin toward a group of three girls who watched them intently.

Nir found out his companions name was Janie Bounce, but he could call her Janie, and she desperately loved to dance. Another mark in her favor. They were soon twirling along with the crowd to Galnar's fiddle. Though the elf lord was unfamiliar with the jumbled and disjointed steps to this human dance, he was able to mimic those around him well enough for his partner. Janie asked him an endless stream of questions about himself, most of which he answered with lies and half truths. He hoped she was being more forthright with him while answering the questions he posed.

Janie said she was 19 years old, unmarried, had never eaten deer, and sang moderately well, though her friends told her she was very good.

They were having a pleasant time when an unattractive frown overtook Janie's face. Nir followed her gaze. Two wooden structures on four wheels pulled by horses came rumbling into the village. Once they stopped, the men sitting on top of the structures climbed down and opened the doors at the sides. From the first one, a man with dark blond hair stepped out and then helped a beautiful older woman with black hair descend from it as well. Two girls who looked like younger versions of her followed. From the second, two young men with orange hair stepped out. One of them assisted a young woman as she climbed down. This girl caught Nir's attention with her glowing ember colored hair. He had never seen anything like it.

"They're the Richardsons," Janie said. "They'll be keeping their horses and carriage in my family's stable. I had better take their cloaks and see if I can get them anything. I'll be back."

Nir watched his partner hurry toward the newcomers, then focused his attention back on the bright haired woman. Her deer-like brown eyes looked about her surroundings unhappily gazing over the crowd. They finally rested curiously on him and Nir surged with a pull toward her that had nothing to do with his magic.

* * *

><p>Miranda surveyed the lively festival which was in full swing, her stomach already threatening to relinquish its contents at the prospect of being flirted with by Charlie Hempstead.<p>

As the young woman took in the sights around her, she noticed a number of men and women who stood out from the rest. With their extreme beauty and impossible graze, they seemed inhuman. The rest of the villagers either watched them, entranced, or danced shamelessly to the music they played. Even Miranda, who didn't have a particular passion for dancing, felt the urge to join in.

She continued scanning the crowd until her eyes fell on a dark haired stranger with black eyes. He resembled the other graceful figures, but enhanced. Even in the simple white shirt and black britches that marked him as belonging to a class beneath her's, he possessed a remarkable appearance and aura of authority.

This man was so splendidly beautiful and otherworldly, Miranda couldn't help thinking of her strange, recently deceased sister. Katherine had sworn there were goblins, elves, dwarves, and other supernatural beings in the world. She even claimed to be learning the goblin language. If Miranda was still young enough to believe in Katherine's stories, she would have been convinced this man and the rest of the strangers stepped straight out of those old fairytales.

Miranda studied him for a long moment before realizing he was staring back openly and just as curiously.

Embarrassed, her already rosy complexion deepened with a blush as she looked away. The young woman promised herself she wouldn't look back at him. Miranda concentrated on handing Janie Bounce her cloak, piling it on top of her mother's and sisters'/ Then she determinedly watched a magician working his tricks.

Her resolve didn't last long. Miranda was soon searching the crowd for the man. Just as soon as her eyes turned away from the magician, she saw the mysterious man walking purposefully toward her.

The young woman's breath caught in her throat as he neared, his steps graceful, yet strong.

The anticipation popped like a soap bubble.

Charlie Hempstead, steered by his mother, the ample Mrs. Hempstead, was suddenly before her, blocking the view of the beautiful stranger.

"Hello, Til," Mrs. Hempstead greeted Miranda mother. "My Charlie was just mentioning how he wanted to dance with your daughter. Weren't you, dear?"

The color drained from the awkward boy's face, but he nodded.

"I'm sure Miranda would be honored to," Til replied. "Isn't that right?"

"Yes, I suppose I shall have to be," Miranda replied.

As Charlie reluctantly led her into the crowd of dancers, Miranda searched for the mysterious man, but he was no where to be found.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

"They're still watching us," Miranda said, gesturing to their mothers.

She and Charlie had been dancing for two songs and were still being monitored by Til and Mrs. Hempstead. Neither of them was any good at dancing and the added attention wasn't helping.

"Don't you feel like some sick experiment of theirs? Like a specimen under a glass?"

"What?" Charlie asked, his eyes focusing on her for the first time. "Specimen under a glass? Where?"

"Never mind." Miranda looked about for the dark haired man, unable to spot him in the crowd. She watched the other graceful strangers instead, taking in the sight of their ethereal beauty.

"Ow!" Miranda cried. Her partner tromped on her foot.

Charlie cursed and turned a few shades of red, as if he was the one in pain.

"That will be quite enough," she said crisply. "You'll have to excuse me. I only have so many toes and you've already crushed half of them."

Miranda turned, ready to flee, only to run straight into the chest of the dark haired man. She took a few quick steps back. They stared at each other. The stranger held out his hand to Miranda. Without thinking, she took the offered palm and let him spin her into the whirl of dancers.

Nir's new partner wasn't as chatty as the last. The pair spent most of their time casting appraising glances at each other and worrying over their foot work.

The elf lord noticed in addition to her fox-like red hair, the young woman possessed brown eyes like a deer. She was beautiful in the strangest ways.

"I don't usually dance with men whose names I don't know," she said.

Nir stared at her, not knowing how to reply.

"That was my way of asking what your name is," she clarified.

"It was?" Nir looked down at her, perplexed. "Why didn't you just ask?"

She rolled her eyes, already a little annoyed with her new dance partner. "What is your name?"

"My people call me Nir," he said. "My name is Ash. What is your name?"

"Miranda Richardson," she said.

"Miranda!" the elf lord exclaimed, horrified. That was the elvish word for the goblin King's Wife.

She looked put off by his outburst. "You may call me _Miss_ Richardson."

"Missrichardson..." he mused. "That's a little better."

The girl looked up at him completely perplexed. This man was so strange. Miranda had never met a gypsy before, so she excused his oddities with the differences in their cultures.

She as about to change the subject when something caught her attention and her face lit up with a smile.

"My mother is watching us," she whispered. "And she looks quite displeased."

Nir followed her gaze to the older woman he saw descending from the wooden structure earlier that evening. She was indeed watching them, fury barely restrained in her lovely black eyes. He looked back at his partner and saw her face practically beaming.

"You're happy about making your mother unhappy?" he asked.

"You would understand if you knew my mother," Miss Richardson said.

Nir thought about his own unfortunate mother, her sad life, and the way she cried every single night. He could imagine what kind of mother could incite joy from her child when she was unhappy.

"Mama doesn't like that I'm dancing with a gypsy," the girl explained.

_Gypsy_, Nir turned the word over in his head, unable to locate the meaning.

"The man you were just dancing with, he was a gypsy?"

Those brown eyes widened in surprise. "You're joking! Charlie Hempstead- a gypsy! The very idea!"

Miranda let out peel after peel of laughter. The elf lord wasn't sure what she was laughing at, but then he didn't usually understand humans in general.

As her laughter died down, sadness seeped into her eyes. Their dancing slowed down to a steady swaying that didn't match the pace of the other dancers or Galnar's fiddle. They slowly eased to the side of the group so they wouldn't disrupt the others.

"I'm afraid Charlie isn't nearly as exciting as a gypsy," Miranda said. "He is quite straight laced and very dull. And he is to be my husband."

"You are engaged?" Nir's heart dropped all the way to the pit of his stomach.

"Not yet. He hasn't proposed to me. But he will. HIs mother will make him and my m other will make me accept him."

"But, you don't want to?"

"No, but like I said, I don't really have much of a say in the matter. Tonight might be my last night to do as I like... such as dancing with a gypsy."

She smiled at him the, sadly, but still very pretty. It hurt to look at her this way, but his compassion for the poor girl wouldn't let him turn away.

Maybe stealing her would save her from this unwanted future... Or just lead her from one unhappy engagement into another. Nir despised his magic at times like this.

"What would you want to do if you didn't have to marry this man?" he asked.

Miranda's eyebrows crunched together in confusion. "What would I want to do," she repeated. "That's not a question anyone asks me often- or ever, really. I don't know." She paused, studying him. "Maybe I would runaway and become a gypsy. I could live free and dance all the time and tell people's fortunes for money and- and whatever else you all do."

That's when Nir realized he was the gypsy she was refering to. He had to find out what it meant.

"So what do you think, Ash?" Miss Richardson was smiling and laughing sincerely, now. "Could I join your band?"

Nir smiled back at her. "…Maybe."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

"What did you think you were doing, dancing with that man?" Til demanded, jostling in the carriage seat beside Miranda as the family made their way home.

Til's usual mask of cool and composed cruelty was completely shattered and replaced with blazing rage that came out in a long, seething rant.

Miranda's father, Jack, braced himself quietly on the seat across from them, devoting complete focus on what little could be seen in the late night gloom outside the window. Her siblings had been smart enough to find refuge in the other carriage.

"He was obviously a gypsy in that cheap shirt and those outdated breeches," Til continued on. "I would be ashamed to see my stable hand dressed that way, let alone my dance partner. My God, Charlie Hempstead could buy and sell that no good traveling tramp three times over. Yet you cast him aside for a man who lives off his wits."

"Ash is more interesting than Mr. Hempstead," Miranda said, knowing that was a mistake the second after the words left her lips.

"Interesting! Yes, much more interesting, if you're interested in a life of thievery, turning tricks, and traveling all over the country with nowhere to call home!"

"I danced with him once," she replied as calmly as she could. "It isn't as though I'm going to marry him."

"You won't be marrying anyone if you continue with this kind of ludicrous behavior," Til said. "A woman's reputation can be ruined so easily and you don't even care. No one, least of all a Hempstead, will marry a woman who consorts with vagabonds! You'll either turn into a fallen woman or an old maid who becomes a drain on your family's resources well into old age, or both! The next time you see Mr. Hempstead, your behavior had better be beyond reproach or I will..."

Miranda decided to allow her mother to vent uninterrupted and concentrate on her own thoughts. The girl let her mind wander to what life would be like if she did become a "fallen woman" who consorted with "vagabonds." If it protected her from unwanted marriage, it couldn't be that terrible.

She pictured herself, not in her usual stiff, formal attire, but in those tacky gypsy skirts, and all their gaudy jewelry. Then a realization struck her. None of the odd people she saw that night were adorned with any of the elaborate gold and silver that characterized a gypsy in stories. Ash's clothes were decidedly plain and unfashionable, most definitely lower class. But then, she had never seen a real gypsy before. She just heard about them in the tales the servants bandied about. So maybe they were completely different from what she always heard. Or maybe Ash and the dancers weren't gypsies at all.

Well, vagabond or not, Miranda hoped to see Ash again. He was so different from everyone else around her. He actually wanted to know what about her wants instead of what he wanted out of her.

"What are you smiling about?" Til demanded to know.

"A vagabond," Miranda replied absently.

* * *

><p>Nir didn't like the thought of stealing a woman and forcing her into marriage. It made him feel too much like a goblin. But that was exactly what his magic intended for him to do.<p>

The elf lord pondered his unhappy task as he crept across the terrace outside his intended victim's bedroom.

The Hallow Hill mansion was easing into a state of rest with the systematic blowing out of candles and tucking in of blankets. The fiery haired girl seemed to be one of the last still awake. Standing beside the bedroom's glass paneled doors that faced the forest, Nir didn't look into the brightly lit room. He kept his back against the wall. Scraps of conversation drifted out to him.

"...just saying, miss, marriage is the best thing for you," came the voice of a servant.

"Please hurry with my stays, Ann, I can barely breathe, all bound up in this corset," Miss Richardson said.

"All done, miss," Ann said, after a considerable amount of rustling, her mistress sighed in relief.

"Thank you," the girl answered. "But really, what good could come from this marriage?"

"From what my grannie tells me, marrying as soon as possible can save a girl's life," the servant said. "I know you've heard the stories about them goblins and took 'em for fairytales, but I tell you, my grannie swears they're the truth. Why, in this very house, they say three girls were taken: Adele Roberts and those sisters, Kate and Emily Winslow."

There was along moment of silence filled only by the rhythmic scratching and crackling of brush bristles coursing through hair.

"I always wanted to believe in goblins." Miranda's voice sounded wistful.

"But miss!" Ann sounded as shocked as Nir felt. "If the stories are true, them goblins are barbaric. They steal women in the dead of night and force them to become their brides. That's why you don't catch me outside after the sun goes down. Not 'til I'm good and married. Lord only knows what kinds of monstrous creatures lurk out there in the dark."

Nir felt the blood drain from his face all the way down to his toes.

_What kind of monstrous creatures lurk out there in the dark_, he repeated to himself, feeling thoroughly ashamed. _What kind, indeed_.

From that point on, he tried not to listen. This would be difficult enough as it was.

Suddenly, the hair rose along Nir's arms, as a creeping, crawling sensation rolled through him. A pair of goblin guards watched him from the shelter of the trees. The elf lord debated what to do about them. They didn't make any movements to approach him so Nir decided to let them be until that changed.

Soon, Miranda's servant was gone. The young woman snuffed out the lamps leaving the room in darkness.

Nir swallowed a lump in his throat that went down like sharp, pointy metal. It was time.

Whispering and weaving words into a sleeping spell around the girl, the elf waited until he heard her breathing steady in a deep slumber.

Once he was sure his victim slept soundly, Nir tested the glass and wood door. Locked. He was unsure how to proceed. He didn't know any spells for this and he didn't want to break the door. That would leave a horrid mess and alert the rest of the house's occupants. Considering what to do, he ran his finger over one of the glass panels. If only he could cut one out. Without warning, the glass cracked with a smudging clink under his finger. Nir drew back in surprise. After the shock passed, he quickly crafted himself a neat rectangle along the border between the wood and the glass near the door handle. When the shape was complete, the piece fell from the door. The elf lord caught the rectangle before it got far. He reached inside and unlocked the door.

Soundlessly, he crept inside. The soft souls of his felt books allowed his feet to feel the cushiony threaded floor of the room. Used to the crass and forest paths, these human floors were strange. He approached the large piece of furniture where his bride slept. Humans slept suspended in the air on bloated mats supported by wooden poles.

Nir studied the flame haired girl in her white gown, the rise and fall of her chest, the movement of her eyes beneath their pink lids. He remembered the color of those eyes while they danced. Brown like a deer. The elf lord watched her rosy lips part slightly like flower petals and recalled the way they curled into a smile. After this, she wouldn't smile at him again.

From their brief interaction, he knew she hated being forced into a marriage with a man she didn't like. Now he was about to force the poor girl into marriage with a man she didn't even know. It was all so ghastly!

He couldn't do it. He couldn't take her. Not this way. Maybe someone else would do. Someone he admired less.

Retreating from the room, Nir miserably beat himself up for the pain he would have to cause some other nameless human woman. Maybe Janie Bounce. But, would he be able to do it to her when the time came?

"Ash..."

The man halted in his tracks. No one had addressed him by his proper name since he released his mother from her own magical imprisonment. The familiarity touched him somewhere down deep in a part of him he didn't know existed.

Cautiously, Nir looked over his shoulder at the young woman. Surely his spell hadn't worn off.

No. The magic still held her fast asleep. Miss Richardson looked like she was dreaming. Of what, the elf could only guess. Approaching the sleeping form, Nir watched in fascinated curiosity.

The fiery girl whispered his named again. "Ash..."

Nir's breath caught in his throat. She was dreaming about him. Maybe he could have her after all.


	5. Chapter 5

Thanks for the reviews ShearViscosity, SiriusBlackisSeriuslyfunny333, and Roxy!

**Chapter 5**

Catspaw listened to Tattoo and Dentwood's report on what they observed of the elf lord and his doings the night before, his bicolored eyes narrowing with suspicion.

His chief adviser seemed just as perplexed.

"It was never uncommon for some elves to attend human fairs to play music and prank humans," Seylin said. "A few elf Kings even chose their brides at fairs. That doesn't apply here, of course, but the music and pranks do. The music helps them earn money to buy their bread. And the pranks, well, elves always did like to have their fun."

"The second guard shift had to clean up some of their 'fun' when they found a terrified human who couldn't stop singing and dancing through the woods," Richard said. "These elves are inexperienced and, therefore, dangerous. They don't know what they're doing with their magic and pretty soon, the humans will get even more suspicious than they already are."

"And what about that elf lord breaking into the bedroom of one of Til's daughters?" Catspaw added. "Elves aren't usually interested in human women. You're sure you didn't see what he was doing in there?"

Tattoo and Dentwood shook their heads.

"We decided not to get too close while he was in the mansion," Tattoo explained. "We didn't want him to think we were spying."

"Of course," the King agreed.

Spying went directly against the treaty. But if his guards happened to witness elvish goings on during their shifts and followed at a discreet distance, there was absolutely nothing wrong with that in Catspaw's opinion.

Dentwood ran down what they observed again. "The elf lord used magic to get in, he stayed for a few minutes, and then he left. We checked on the girl and she seemed unharmed."

Standing up and preparing to leave the royal rooms for breakfast, Catspaw turned it all over in his head again.

"When the elves first came, that elf lord already knew things about us and tried to sabotage my marriage," the King said. "He knew I was unmarried and sent me a bride who was so convinced I was going to mutilate her beyond recognition, she almost killed herself trying to keep her distance from me. What if he knows Til is my sister?"

"How would he know that?" Seylin asked, unconvinced. "_Til_ doesn't even know she's your sister anymore."

"I don't know, but what I do know is he must be trying to sabotage us again, this time by going after the human members of my family," Catspaw said. "We have to find out what he has planned." He opened the door and stepped out into the hallway. "Seylin, I want you to-"

Catspaw stopped at the sight of a tall, slender woman with long dark blond hair. Katherine, who had been gazing out the window that looked out over the kingdom's valley fields, looked up at the groups approach.

The smile that lit up her face just about stopped Catspaw's heart. But that smile wasn't for him.

While she nodded at the King and his lieutenants, the young woman's eyes shined for her husband.

"I heard you were up here." Katherine moved to Dentwood's side and folded her hand in his. "I thought I would wait so we could walk to the banquet hall together. I hope I'm not interrupting."

"No, I think we're finished," the brown haired goblin said, looking at his King for confirmation.

Catspaw gave a curt nod and watched the couple walk hand in hand down the hallway, cursing the elf lord once again for what he cost him. If it wasn't for that infuriating elf, Katherine would have been waiting for him, not some guard.

Katherine was raised to be his wife. Though she was the oldest daughter of Catspaw's foster sister, his father brought her up, teaching her everything she needed to know in order to be the ideal King's Wife. That alone recommended her to the new King, but his current pain was more than that. Once he got to know her, it was impossible not to love her.

In every respect, from Katherine's golden looks to her composed and serious disposition, she appeared to be the opposite of Til. She was strong enough to keep her emotions from spilling over, not when the most grotesque of the goblins thronged around her, not when she watched Marak die, and not even when Catspaw broke their engagement on the night they were supposed to marry.

Through it all, she remained calm, her caramel brown eyes stayed dry, and, sometimes, she even managed to smile. She had the makings to be a King's Wife as perfect as his own mother. But she never would be. The magic of the Heir was more important than a triviality like personal happiness.

Although it seemed completely irrational, Catspaw found Katherine's almost emotionless response to the derailment of their marriage devastating.

As he continued discussing the elf lord with his lieutenants on their way to the banquet hall, Catspaw remembered the night he returned from the truce circle with a reluctant bride and the added burden of breaking the news to his fiancée.

Katherine had stared at him blankly for so long, the King repeated himself just in case she hadn't understood. She just nodded, continuing to stare at and through him.

"I understand," she said. "You're doing what's best for your people."

Catspaw had come in dreading the thought of this dignified woman falling apart at the collapse of her planned out and structured future. Instead, the lack of emotion cut him all the way down to his core. But that was nothing compared to how he felt about the pure happiness she seemed to find with Dentwood.

The King didn't want the woman he loved moping around like a sobbing, irrational mess the way Til used to when she didn't get her way. He wouldn't respect her if she did. But he didn't want this indifference either.

There was nothing he could do about any of that, so he gave his full attention to a topic he could control.

"Seylin." Catspaw stopped directly outside of the banquet hall. "Go to the elf camp with another spell book tonight. Find out why that lord is so interested in my family. I know he's up to something. I want to know what it is and crush that plan before it even begins."


End file.
